Monday, January 09, 2006

Galactor the Evil Galactic Overlord watched the gladitorial bout on his viewscreen. His evil smirk as the match began waned as it progressed, but if he was distressed, it didn't show.

He turned to one of his followers, Dr. Nemonok. "Interesting. I would have assumed that an evil version of Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator would have all of the good one's brains and abilities plus the evil attributes. Despite this, they are too evenly matched."

If there was disappointment in the outcome, he did not show it. Galactor simply stated as he saw, his evil voice rumbling the way it always would.

"Very interesting indeed," observed Nemonok. Dr. Nemonok was once a brilliant psychiatrist. His gift of understanding the psyche of many sentient beings throughout the galaxy was well known and well revered. Because of his status, his descent into darkness came as a surprise to all who knew him. It was discovered that Nemonok had devised ways of mental abuses so hideous, that he was immediately stripped of his license and locked away from the rest of the universe to keep his perverse tortures from everyone else.

Quickly liberated by the overlord, the villainous scientist joined Galactor's ranks and promptly became one of his favorite advisors. Even as his body decayed away with incessant contact with such tremendous evil, Nemonok continued as a sort of second to Galactor, specializing in mental torture and abuse. Galactor rewarded Nemonok's loyal service with everlasting life, as a disembodied brain encased in a jar.

"It appears," continued Nemonok. "That despite all of Evil Jon's apparent advantages. They are still evenly matched. Good Jon would still know all of Evil Jon's tricks and be able to counter them."

"Most unfortunate," rumbled Galactor. "We will then have to tip the scales in our direction."

Meanwhile, I was making my way back to the Danger Sled after the long bout when Evil Jon suddenly sprung out from the shadows brandishing a vorpal knife. I wasn't surprised by his appearance, as I felt it coming.

I can't quite describe the feeling, it is the feeling one would get when near a mirror universe version of him or herself. If you've never been in this situation, then I don't know how to elaborate. It's like a buzzing in my head, but it's not.

Despite this, I still had difficulty dodging the attack. The molecular-edged blade swung past me, cleaving the front of my shirt and tearing a slash across my chest.

"I'm going to gut you like a fish, you Nancy-boy hero to the common man!" Evil Jon growled.

I swung my leg at his hand. "You should really stop trying to insult me like that," I answered. "It's all stuff that I know is coming and it's actually kind of funny."

My leg connected with his hand, but the knife didn't fly from his grip. Instead, he spun around with the force of the blow and tried to cut me while swinging around.

I ducked the attack and grabbed his arm. Clutching it, I spun into him, giving me leverage to throw him over my shoulder. He landed on his back, but my leg gave out as I threw him and I dropped to my knees.

With a fearsome war cry, Evil Jon plunged his knife towards my head. Suddenly, dark energy danced around him and he began to dematerialize.

"What? No!! Son of a bi--" his howl disappeared into an echo.

I barely had time to wonder what was happening when a soft, fuscia energy surrounded me. I felt the transporter beam start to disassemble my molecules. Where would this beam take me?